The season one finale of Netflix’s You was bonkers, to say the least. After nine episodes of stalking and murder, Beck finally became privy to Joe’s behavior and tried to GTFO. Of course, this didn’t happen: Joe managed to kidnap Beck and keep her locked in that weird glass box in the basement of his bookstore. She almost successfully escaped, but unfortunately evil and toxic masculinity prevailed: Joe murdered Beck, or so we think, and he framed her therapist, Dr. Nicky, for the crime. He then sent the manuscript Beck had been working on to a publisher, thus turning her into the bestselling author she always wanted to be—all posthumously, mind you.
But what if Beck isn’t really dead? After all, Joe’s ex-girlfriend Candace popped up unexpectedly in the season finale, and we were convinced she died too. Plus, we never actually saw Beck’s dead body, just a body placed inside one of those crime-scene bags. Is it possible that Joe completely staged Beck’s death and she’s still down in his God-awful cage?
That’s what a few fans seems to think. “For anyone who’s watched the #Netflix series You, my theory is that Beck isn’t dead and she’s still down stairs in Joe’s weird-ass box,” one fan wrote on Twitter. “Beck isn’t dead. Joe just has her in the cage, and he reads to her every night, feeds her and tells her how much of a successful writer she is,” posted another. (That’s a very…bleak image, to say the least.)
“I am so convinced Beck isn’t actually dead and is just in that horrific glass box forever now,” tweeted someone else. Check out some more reactions from viewers who are also on this train:
There are a few issues with this theory, though. For one, the world thinks Beck is dead. For her to suddenly reappear would require an ironclad explanation from the show-runners, which might not be possible. Also, Elizabeth Lail, who plays Beck, told Vulture she knew Beck was going to die before she signed on to the project.
“I thought it was gonna be some heroic justice at the end, but it’s more true to life that she does die, unfortunately. It’s more likely that someone would die in that situation,” she said.
Looks like we’ll have to wait until the season two premiere to receive any definitive answers.
This Is Us finally returned tonight with Kevin on the hunt for a very much alive Nicky, his relationship with Zoe on shaky ground, and a tense election night for Randall and the rest of the Pearsons. And that’s just the beginning—caution: spoilers ahead.
In the episode, Zoe recruits her politician ex-boyfriend to help Kevin get answers on Nicky, but in the process reveals that she dumped this ex via email. This doesn’t sit well with Kevin, who questions her choices and whether she’d do the same to him. They split, but eventually reconcile at Randall’s election headquarters and decide to move in together (complete with Zoe’s own John Stamos key ring. Long story).
Meanwhile, Randall and Beth start off the episode at odds (with Randall mainly to blame). But Beth feels bad for trying to stop her husband’s dream and gets back on board with the campaign. Randall—who was way behind in the polls—discovers some damaging information on his opponent, Sol Brown, but decides to try to win the election on his own merit. And in the end, he does.
Throughout all of this drama, Kate and Toby bond over vintage action figures—and a Three Rivers Stadium replica—but otherwise things remain status quo. Now, though, the big question is what will happen when Kate and her brothers and Rebecca find out that their uncle Nicky is alive. Plus, what’s in store for Beth and Randall’s marriage now that he’s a big city councilman (with a two hour commute)?
So we asked executive producer and co-showrunner Isaac Aptaker to tell us what to expect next week. Oh, and he has some info on an easter egg you might have missed. Read on for more.
As soon as we heard Nicky was discharged from Walter Reed Medical Center, it was clear Jack had to have known he was alive. Turns out he did—so will we see them together post-Vietnam in the weeks and months to follow?
Isaac Aptaker: Yes, next week’s episode is such a huge episode of the show. It’s a do not miss. We’re going to give all the answers people have been waiting for—about what happened to Jack and Nicky, who knew what, what went down in Vietnam. It’s an incredibly packed episode that will answer everything people are wondering about that story.
Is the entire episode just Jack and Nicky next week, or will we see other characters?
IA: There’s a present day storyline, too. We’re going to learn what happened to Nicky across all of our timelines, including him in the present day.
I was looking at the postcard Nicky sent Jack. When he wrote “last one,” that must infer it’s his last attempt at reaching out, correct?
IA: Yeah, that’s certainly what I would think. [Kevin] has this handful of artifacts of Jack’s that survived the fire, so that’s just one piece of their correspondence. That’s not the whole story, but we will dive into exactly “last one” of how many, “last one” of what, all of that, next week.
How much thought went into that particular postcard that Nicky sent Jack? If you look closely, the image on the front is described on the back as “Young brothers fishing the rivers of Pennsylvania.”
IA: Yeah, that was not an accident at all. [Laughs] We had all of these postcards to see what [the right one] would look like. They were brilliantly designed by our props department. Everything had to be [authentic to the time] period and have little hints about their story but not too on the nose. They were all very carefully designed and selected.
The postcard is also dated 1992, so…
IA: That’s when our big three are in their adorable 12-year-old period.
So if Jack died in January 1998, could we maybe see Jack and Nicky in scenes between 1992-1998?
IA: Totally possible. Totally possible.
I think that means yes.
Last year viewers first saw Jack and teenage Randall in Washington D.C. Tonight, we saw more of their dialogue there. Had you shot all of that at the same time last year, or did you have to go back and film the part where Jack tells Randall it’s too sad for him to look at Nicky’s name on the war memorial?
IA: We shot part of it [last year] because we had to plan for Nicky back then, so we knew we had that piece of it. Part of it we were able to recreate with some very clever green screens and angles to fill in the rest. But we knew the part of the war memorial back then.
That’s just frightening how much you guys have planned out that far in advance.
IA: Well, we have a really big writers room with so many things on the wall. We’re always putting in these little easter eggs that we know we can go back to.
Let’s talk about Randall and the election. As soon as he got the call with the results, I knew he won based on the look of disbelief that washed over him. But before he told Beth, I wondered if he would say “I won” or “We won.” He says, “I won,” but was that even a conversation in the writers room?
IA: That’s really interesting. I can’t remember a particular conversation about that, but I love that you brought that up. He’s been trying so hard to include Beth in this and for her to find her place in his campaign, but also as her own person in this marriage. When someone wins a job like that, the whole family’s life is going to change. It’s not like he’s the president, but he’s going to be a public figure in a big way. He’s going to be working hard from home, and their whole lives are about to change. What I love about that scene is the look on both of their faces. Neither one was entirely expecting this, and they are having a million thoughts at once. What does this mean for their marriage? What does this mean for their three children? What does this mean for their finances? He got what he wanted in one sense, but also this huge bomb has just been dropped on this home that’s had a pretty rocky year.
And he has this two hour commute between his district and his home.
IA: Right. The logistical problems alone of this new job are just tremendous.
Randall will obviously change as he takes on this new role, but will he change for the better or the worse?
IA: I think the immediate storyline we’ll be tackling—because it’s a bit of a slow burn—is once you’re in this position, you’re not actually sworn into office for a little while. There’s a period of time when you’re assembling your staff and applying for committees and such before you begin your work as a city councilman. So the immediate stories are that he won, he wasn’t really expecting that, and what does that mean for him and his family? There are much more family-focused and marriage-focused stories coming. He’s beginning this new job as his wife is at this total crossroads in her life and coming to terms with what she wants as a career woman outside of being a mom and now a political wife. The immediate stories coming up are everything’s changing; how do we continue to be amazing parents to these three amazing daughters who are also going through [things]? Deja wants to see her biological mom, Tess has just come out. Everyone in this family, except for stable, wonderful Annie, is sort of in crisis and in flux, and how do we maintain that amazing family unit that we love when everyone’s in crisis?
By the way, it was such a Randall thing to do when Randall ordered Ellen DeGeneres’ mom’s book on her daughter’s coming out. How much more will we see in the coming weeks and months of Tess’s journey now that she’s opened up to her parents?
IA: I love that scene, too, but at first I was like, “This is too broad, you can’t just make up books.” Our writer Laura Kenar was like, “No, no, look!” She pulled up the Amazon page and was like, “Ellen’s mom really wrote this book.” I was like, “That’s amazing, we’ll keep it in the script!” As far as Tess’s coming out storyline, that’s a slower burn, sort of like a bigger picture through the whole series. It’s not like next week we’re going to be jumping into a dating story for Tess, but it’s something that we’re going to see play out over the course of the rest of the series as Tess struggles when to tell her sisters and her friends at school. Of course, we’ll also see what comes of her romantic relationships in the future storyline as we get to know more about adult Tess. It’s now part of the fabric of our show.
Creator Dan Fogelman recently teased that the cast gathered for a rare table read for episode 15 and that it’s “so intense that our cast called for it. These guys are not messing around right now.” Explain what that means.
IA: I think it was Sterling K. Brown who rallied the troops [to get everyone together for the table read]. Bekah Brunstetter, who is one of our writers and also a very established playwright, wrote this script. I don’t want to tell you too much about it, but it’s very contained and sort of all our characters in one space in almost real time. It’s almost an extended version of that season two, episode 11 rehab family scene we did last year. We just started shooting it today. When Sterling first read the script he was so excited that he said, “Guys, we have to read this through together so we can all hear it out loud before we start.” We hadn’t done that since the fifth episode of season one since it’s so impossible with our production schedule to get everyone in the same place at the same time. But we made it happen and hearing that group of actors perform this incredible script that Bekah wrote was just so exciting. It’s a special one. The episode takes place in the present, and it’s all of our adult siblings and Miguel and Rebecca. It’s a bunch of amazing actors thrown into a situation, and they’re just going to act their faces off.
Dan said it’s an intense episode, but is it shocking as well?
IA: I’d say it’s all of that. It’s also really funny! Jon Huertas (Miguel) was so funny at the table read. He would tell a joke and it would be a minute of laughter before someone could tell their next line.
Finally, let’s talk about Kate. Will we see her give birth this season?
IA: That I cannot answer without giving too much away, but our show progresses pretty much in real time. So if you look when she got pregnant, there’s a good chance that will happen over the course of our year. We try to stick to a normal schedule aside from little [time] jumps here and there.
A few months ago, at a family gathering, we took a group photo of all the cousins and our kids. As my cousin’s wife examined the picture on her phone and got ready to post it, my cousin slapped—literally, slapped—the phone out of his wife’s hand. We’re living in an era in which using social media has become an instinct. The assumption whatever happens—to us, near us—is fair game for #content. But that cousin knew that my husband and I don’t post pictures of our daughter on social media and he didn’t think he’d be able to communicate that to his wife in time to stop her from hitting “upload.” (His wife was fine, if rattled.) His reflexes kicked in. Around us, people in the restaurant stared at him until he sheepishly handed his wife her phone back.
When I was pregnant with our daughter, my husband told me he’d like to keep her off our—well, my—social media. The request surprised me. As a writer, I’m always mining my personal life for stories, and my social media accounts (while hardly well-followed) reflect how open I am. I am a sharer. My husband uses Facebook maybe once a fiscal quarter and doesn’t have Instagram, so I wasn’t sure why he cared what I was or wasn’t posting. I’m used to scrolling past newborn after newborn in my feed, and I expected mine to be among them. So I said as much, pushing back. But he made a kind, convincing argument, telling me he was concerned about her privacy and the digital footprint she might have before she could even consent to being photographed. It’s a significant concern—not just for our family, but socially, as our culture reckons with everything from revenge porn to whether countries should allow individuals to erase unwanted digital content. (France seems to think the answer is “yes.”)
Even at the start, there were parts of the idea I liked: She’ll never get mad at us for showing a photo of her in the bathtub to dozens of strangers. But there were parts I didn’t like: Like, what if she does something really, insanely cute and I want everyone to see? “Just text it to people you actually know,” he said. I sighed. I wasn’t sold on the fix—I didn’t want to assume people cared enough to see her unprompted. (Whereas scrolling past her in their feed seemed much more passive.) Still it didn’t strike me as an immediate problem. “Fine. We can reassess when she starts doing really, insanely cute things,” I said. He rarely asks for anything like this, and really he was asking me to not do something. I decided I could handle it.
Sharing baby stories is the currency of the new mom.
Once she entered the world, I began to feel some regret about the decision. I was spending more hours than ever plugged in to social media, filling late nights and endless afternoons on my phone while I was home alone with an infant. I was desperate to connect to people with whom I could relate. Sharing baby stories is the currency of the new mom. I tried to participate while following the rule we came up with: no face photos, don’t share her full name. But obscuring her while trying to post about her started to seem pointless. I felt like I was missing out on opportunities to bond with other moms. I was DMing women posting about their babies just to feel less alone.
I had to make sure not to grow resentful towards my husband, since it hadn’t been my rule. Erin, a mom of one in New York City, a model, and a doula who is building her business on Instagram, told me she could relate—her husband also asked her not to post their son. “I’m super public and my husband is super private,” she explains. “Since the internet is forever, my husband doesn’t want our son to have his image out before he chooses. Which I get, but I’m also like—this is what I do!” She also doesn’t post face photos but has found a lot of work-arounds. I get it. But for me, it became easier just to retreat.
After a few months of feeling left out of social media #mom culture, I decided to post about how I wasn’t going to be showing my daughter’s face.
I felt kind of like I had been lying by omission by not coming right out and saying that we wouldn’t be sharing her, and it was oddly cleansing to make the declaration. Instantly, I saw positive comments populate: “love this!” “yes!” and applause emojis. I started to feel empowered by the decision rather than restricted. In fact, once I went public with it, it became something I felt proud of.
For one, I love that people interested in my kid actually ask me about her. As it turns out, it’s much more gratifying to get texts saying, “I need to see a picture of C!” than it is to watch likes roll in. It also avoids that awkward dance of telling an anecdote when you meet up with someone in real life and trying to suss out if that person already saw it on social media. I know for a fact that no stories about my child are boring repeats for anyone who’s watched the stories I post on Instagram. An unexpected twist? It’s reinforced some friendships—the people getting the “content” that I would have posted are the people I really care about and who really care about me and my daughter.
On a more serious note, it’s also forced me to make social media a reprieve from being “C’s mommy.” With next to no child content on my account, I have to highlight other things going on in my life. I have to take more stock of the non-mom activities I do and share those moments, reminding me that I’m a person outside of this role. I love being a mom, but it doesn’t consume me. And it matters that the world sees it doesn’t appear to be consuming me either, as it does so many new parents who suddenly flip from posting beers to posting bassinets. Some friends have made half-joking comments that they haven’t had to mute me or tune me out, that I’m one less poster of endless kiddie spam. On some level I get that, too: Even though I have a kid and like knowing what other parents are up to, there are a few children I see so often on my feed that I’ve memorized their bath-time routine. Keeping C off social media, as trivial as it might seem, has given me a stronger sense of my identity, post-baby.
Of course in the end this is about her, and it’s a relief to know that posting her is not a habit I’ll have to wean myself off of when I become like, soembarrassing as her mom. And I loved a point made by Lisa, a mom of one in Los Angeles who I spoke to who also doesn’t post her baby. She does it for her child’s privacy, but she had one additional reason: “I feel like when I was struggling to get pregnant it killed me to see images of happy families and bouncing babies. The comparisons felt so awful,” she says. “I try and remember how that felt to see an image of perfection, regardless of what was really going on behind the scenes.” I was comforted to think I wasn’t adding to anyone’s pain like that, too.
There are still moments it’s not easy. I hate having to police others’ behavior—I’ve had to explain at big family gatherings that the group photo can only be posted if you can’t see my daughter’s face, and once had to ask a good friend to take something down after it had gone up. Personally, I haven’t faced any backlash over that, but Lisa told me she has been pressured to share more about her family by moms in her circle. “I have been getting a fair amount of pushback from my friends who take lots of pics of our babies [together] and post them all over,” she says. I’ve seen comments like this directed at celebs like Sarah Michelle Gellar and Kristen Bell who don’t post pics of their kids, too. It surprises me, because who cares? And also: We’re gong to bully people for what they do post and what they don’t? When I want to hit upload, I scratch the itch in the ways I know how: I send it to a group text, or to my dad. Or I’ll stick an emoji on her face and just go ahead and post. But I know we made the right decision for us. At some point, I hope she’s grateful. But even if she never expresses appreciation for her digital blank slate, I know I am. And besides, I’ll find plenty of un-grammable ways to embarrass her in the meantime.
Sara Gaynes Levy is a writer and editor in New York City.
The mess has to increase before it decreases. Any organizing expert will attest to that. In Marie Kondo’s playbook, for example, a person who’s serious about de-cluttering has to first take stock of what she owns in all of its voluminous bounty. That means creating mountains of personal stuff in categorical heaps and owning up to mankind’s extraordinary ability to accumulate. As Kondo says in her book as well as her hit Netflix series, Tidying Up with Marie Kondo, “It is so important to see everything you have and hold each item in your hands.”
Kondo’s wildly popular self-help guide The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up, published in 2012, endorses that approach. By taking stock of what you own all at once, you can more easily select the items worth saving—or in Kondo’s terms, things that “spark joy.” Creating a joyful home is the nexus of a happy life, she believes, and in Tidying Up with Marie Kondo, the de-cluttering guru visits the homes of everyday people to guide them through that arduous but purposeful task.
For those who have yet to check it out, the show will remind you strongly of Queer Eye—another Netflix reality series centered on self-improvement. Both rely on experts who are skilled in their fields and embody the enthusiastic optimism of life coaches. Kondo understands that to emerge from a life rut, you often need to start with the physical and work your way in toward self-awareness. As Kondo sees it, de-cluttering is inevitably an emotional endeavor. She knows that humans have an inexplicable attachment to old belongings, and she creates space—both literally and figuratively—for those possessions to be honored.
I left behind belongings that sparked the most joy in general, like artwork and photo albums, and packed only the things that sparked joy right now.
In episode three, Kondo visits the Mersier family, who moved from a large house in Michigan to a smaller apartment in Los Angeles but never downsized their things in the process. The father, Douglas, feels remorseful about discarding sentimental objects like an engraved cup his godmother gave him years ago. His wife Katrina, inclined to roll her eyes at such vestiges of childhood, comes around when she sees Marie’s sensitivity to it, ultimately saying, “I love the way [Marie] doesn’t make any of the family members feel bad about what they want to keep. I’m learning.”
Because Kondo’s goal is sparking joy—and not, say, improving utility—she facilitates a personal path toward home improvement. A blender in excellent condition serves no purpose to someone who hates cooking, while an heirloom with no ostensible function might fill a room with warmth.
For my own part, I have a decently healthy relationship to stuff. I have a habit of buying cookware and books, but I keep countertops clear and shelves organized. I’m allergic to all forms of tchotchke. My only hoarding vice is saving birthday cards, letters, and ticket stubs that live in disorganized splendor in my night table drawer. So because my clutter levels are on the lower end of the spectrum, I never thought I needed a thorough assessment of possessions in the manner Marie Kondo prescribes.
It took a fire to change my perspective.
The blaze ignited on the third floor of my Brooklyn building; though the flames never reached my first floor apartment, the water certainly did. It was New Years Eve 2017. I rushed home from a family gathering soon after the fire department left, feeling nervous and uncertain about what I’d find. No one in the building was hurt, luckily, and the fire was extinguished, but copious amounts of water had seeped through the walls. Inside my apartment, the hardwood floors undulated like waves from the water buildup. The walls were bulbous from moisture which signified the likelihood of mold. Everything smelled. Adding to the situation was the timing of it all: My husband and I were planning to put our place on the market that week in pursuit of a bigger home for ourselves and our two little boys. That was an absurd prospect now. We would have to find a temporary place to live. We were grateful for home insurance.
Soon after, we packed up and moved to an Airbnb while repairs started in our home. Most of our possessions were left to collect dust under plastic covers, and I packed a couple suitcases with a few essentials. I left behind belongings that sparked the most joy in general, like artwork and photo albums, and packed only the things that sparked joy right now: my winter boots, the sweaters I wore on repeat, a couple dresses, jeans, the book I had started reading, and another book in case I finished the first. For my boys, I packed a selection of clothes and a tiny assortment of toys: a Lego set, puzzles, picture books. Traveling lightly triumphed over abundance.
We stayed at our temporary lodging for two months. It was a tight space, and we only had a few personal things with us, but we felt so lucky the fire had not been more damaging. More so, living with less made us feel thankful for the comforts we usually enjoyed, like having the space and seating to host friends for meals. Even the ability to say “this is temporary” is a luxury.
It’s funny how the more you have, the more you’re accustomed to having.
When we moved back home, our floors were brand new and our possessions suddenly looked more plentiful than ever. Look at all this stuff I owned. A KitchenAid! Serving platters! Extra bedding and pillowcases. Dozens of shirts. I barely missed most of these items, or even acknowledged their absence. (OK, I did miss the KitchenAid.) The difference between beloved possessions and excess stuff had never seemed starker. I donated a lot that week—baby gear we didn’t need, clothes, books, kitchen supplies—and felt more appreciative of the items I kept.
We finally put our home on the market and bought a new place, coincidentally down the block from the little Airbnb. As we got settled in our new place, I bought Marie Kondo’s book so this home would feel light and peaceful. I didn’t want to take the extra space for granted.
It’s funny how the more you have, the more you’re accustomed to having. Much of Kondo’s cleverness, therefore, is homing in on the inverse relationship between bounty and gratitude. To enhance the latter, you need to confront the former and assess its value. Netflix’s Tidying Up with Marie Kondo may have ridiculously banal content—watching people clean out their closets and drawers—but the emotional toll of letting go is a surprisingly moving experience. The episode where Frank and Matt, two writers with an attachment to old books and papers, host Frank’s parents for the first time in their shared home was genuinely emotional to watch. And I laughed knowingly as the two of them read old birthday cards at their table and agreed to discard most of them. It even inspired me to crack open my night table drawer and, in true Marie Kondo style, greet the mess.
Lonnie Firestone has written for Departures, Vanity Fair, and Playbill.
Exes Anna Faris and Chris Pratt are on good terms—such good terms, in fact, that he texted her the morning after proposing to his girlfriend of roughly a year, Katherine Schwarzenegger.
Faris revealed this tidbit Monday (January 14) on her podcast, , Anna Faris Is Unqualified. “Chris texted me this morning and he was like, ‘I proposed to Katherine last night,'” the Mom actress says, according to Us Weekly. “And I was like, ‘Ahh, that’s amazing.’”
If you thought that’s where the good vibes ended, you’re wrong. Faris then took things up a notch and offered to ordain Pratt and Schwarzenegger’s wedding. Granted, this was probably-definitely a joke—but even joking about officiating your ex-husband’s wedding is a level of chill we should all aspire to.
“And I texted [Pratt] back like, ‘I just wanted to remind you I’m an ordained minister.’ I’m not very good at it,” Faris also said on her podcast.
She continued, “I’m so happy for them. I knew that it was gonna happen and I love her and I love him and I’m just so happy that they found each other…I so subscribe to the idea of, like, expanding, like, family and love with [my son] Jack. [Katherine’s] awesome.”
Faris’ actions absolutely match this. Over Halloween last year, she, her new boyfriend Michael Barrett, Pratt, and Schwarzenegger all took Jack trick-or-treating. (Pratt and Faris welcomed Jack in 2012.)
“Sweet Katherine, so happy you said yes! I’m thrilled to be marrying you. Proud to live boldly in faith with you. Here we go,” Pratt posted to Instagram on Monday confirming his new engagement.
“I’m so happy for you both!! Congratulations!” Faris commented on this post shortly after it went live, according to Us Weekly.
Last night on The Bachelor, the contestants were asked to write a short story about a “first time” in their life. After a few tales about college hi-jinx and first impression roses, one woman, Elyse, stood up and revealed that Colton Underwood, at 26, is the first younger guy she’s dated. Her competitor Demi called this act “so brave.” Later, as Colton and Elyse discussed their age difference, she told him the contestants over 27 had bunked together and dubbed their room the “cougar den.” Colton gave Elyse the group date rose, praising her for opening up and being so “vulnerable.”
Elyse is 31.
31! As I pointed out in my recap last night, that is still much younger than last year’s then 36-year-old Bachelor Arie Luyendyk Jr. It’s younger than both times Brad Womack was the lead, first at 35 then at 38. And definitely younger than the oldest Bachelor in the show’s history: season six’s Byron Velvick, who was 40 at the time. The average age of the Bachelor is 31. The same age as Elyse.
Wanna know the age of the oldest Bachelorette? I mean, no, but I’ll tell you anyway: 32. (That honor goes to Rachel Lindsay.) The median age for the Bachelorette is 27.
Her delivery was off, but maybe Demi was right after all when she snipes, “There’s no advantage to being an older woman here.”
Women (and even some men) on social media agree: The Bachelor has an ageism problem. “The fact that being in your upper 20s qualifies you in the cougar den in Colton’s Season is very concerning,” one woman wrote. “Like I haven’t even accepted the fact that I’m an adult and now I have to accept that I’m a cougar?”
Another joked, “Colton is giving Elyse the rose because she was “brave” and “vulnerable”. She admitted she was over 30.”
Some took the “cougar den” in stride, like this user who tweeted, “Apparently on #thebachelor they designated a room for 27+ women called the “cougar den”…WELCOME TO THE DEN BITCHES. WELCOME TO BEING AWESOME AND KNOWING WHAT WE WANT.”
While others directed their jokes (and probably a little anger) at Demi, who was the main instigator of the older vs. younger women debate. “I will show up to every birthday every year for the rest of Demi’s life to remind her she just got a year older,” one person wrote. “Don’t doubt me, I’ve got time.”
The Demi jokes are good and fun, but let’s not skim over the fact that she’s part of a wider problem. The Bachelor and The Bachelorette has a storied history of casting mostly early-20s women for their 30-something Bachelor, and vice versa. (One notable exception: Rachel Lindsay’s guys were younger than her on average! Leave it to the first woman of color Bachelorette to break multiple barriers.)
I don’t expect the show to suddenly change this practice for every season to come—it’s all about the baby steps when it comes to The Bachelor—but it would be nice to have a world where a woman’s age isn’t a big reveal or a plot device. This goes both ways: Remember all the so-called controversy about 22-year-old Bekah Martinez being too young for Arie last season? The numbers might be different, but the argument is the same: restrictions are being placed around whether or not a woman’s age is “correct” for the guy she’s dating.
If we could stop focusing on that so much, there’d be more time to discuss the really important things. Like my new hero, the woman who told Colton she’s not ready for kids, “just a bunch of dogs right now.”
My attempts to sculpt my eyebrows into two symmetrical, precisely defined arches usually end like attempts to please my parents: More often than not, I walk away from my efforts disappointed and tired. It’s not for a lack of trying; I’ve studied up on editors’ picks and investigated Internet hacks for easy, breezy, I-woke-up-like-this eyebrows. Left to my own devices, though, I end up with two uneven faux caterpillars.
Just when I’d lost hope for my dream eyebrows—even, full, and defined—Urban Decay stepped in with a big assist. Today, Urban Decay is unveiling a new brow collection at Sephora, Ulta, and QVC—and instead of suggesting one product fits every arch, there’s a specific item tailored to the precise look you’re going for. Fans of ultra-defined, microbladed precision can pick up the felt-tip Brow Blade ($26) pen to ink in sparse areas. Anyone looking for extra volume can build luscious brows with Brow Endowed ($28), a two-sided pomade set with primer and color. For those of us who can’t draw a tail to save their lives (ahem), there’s a set of stencils ($12 each) developed in collaboration with Audrey Glass, a top microblader in Los Angeles, to guide your chosen filling-in technique. You get the idea: There’s something for everyone.
I have my own makeup battles to fight, but my specific brow-tastrophe isn’t the only one that Urban Decay’s new collection can solve. So I asked my Glamour colleagues to join me in testing the entire collection, from the au natural clear pomade to the buildable brow putty. The shades of our brows couldn’t be more different—from wispy blonde to foliage auburn—and we’re each after a different look. Even with our varying dream brows, the line gave us all exactly what we wanted. Scroll on for everyone’s honest reviews.
HBO dropped the first teaser for Game of Thrones season eight on Sunday night (January 13), and, as expected, fans are already excavating it for clues and hidden meanings. Of course, some of them are a stretch, but a few actually have merit—like a theory currently trending on Reddit about Jon Snow’s statue from the trailer.
For context, go back and watch the teaser for yourself, below, and pay close attention to the statues it reveals of Arya, Sansa, and Jon. Notice how Arya and Sansa’s figures portray them as they are now—young—but Jon’s depicts him as an older man. Some fans are taking this to mean that Jon Snow is the only one who survives when everything is said and done. That’s a bold conclusion, sure, but Game of Thrones is a bold show.
“For me this trailer solidifies Jon as the main protagonist of the story,” one Redditor writes. “Whatever the ending is going to be, it’s going to be about Jon. He will be the hero, the ruler; he will defeat the Night King and save the realm. He’s not going to die, unless it’s as a final sacrifice.”
Others, however, think people may be reading too much into this. One fan points to a similar death theory that popped up in season six but never panned out. “Remember season six promos with all the faces of the lead actors in the hall of the Many Faced God? Everyone had theories on which one was gonna die, none of those characters died in that season,” they write. Good point!
There’s also another big Easter egg in this trailer: the frozen feather that falls when Jon passes the remains of his late mother, Lyanna. For context: The audience knows Lyanna is Jon’s mom, but he doesn’t. As this happens, we hear Lyanna’s voice faintly say, “You have to protect him.” “Him” is referring to Jon, who is the true heir to the Iron Throne. He just doesn’t know it yet. (Sansa put this exact feather on Lyanna’s statue back in season five.)
There’s so much going on in this trailer! Catch fans coming up with 500 more theories from it between now and when season eight premieres on April 14.
Serena Williams‘ signature catsuits have been the subject of public fascination since she returned to the tennis court last summer for the French Open, wearing a formfitting black style from Nike that would go on to be banned by the French Tennis Federation. (The Women’s Tennis Association stood by Williams, updating its dress codes to approve “mid-thigh-length compression shorts” like hers.) Now, for her first tournament of 2019, the G.O.A.T. is making it clear that the look isn’t going away any time soon.
On January 15, Williams faced Tatjana Maria at the Australian Open in Melbourne. She not only won her first match of the competition, but she did so wearing a familiar silhouette.
Williams appeared on the court wearing another custom catsuit by Nike. Unlike the French Open one, this version was short and green, with black and white stripe details and a keyhole cut-out in the back.
Oh, and she wore it with fishnet tights.
Ever since she began her career in the mid-1990s, Williams has dominated the tennis court not only with her incredible skill, but with her sense of style. Her latest Nike outfit offers her fans the slightest throwback to the start of her fashion journey: Its reminiscent of her original catsuit, designed by Puma for the 2002 U.S. Open.
There’s really no question that Yolanda Hadid is a stunningly beautiful woman—and a quick look at any of the throwback photos her famous daughters Gigi and Bella post of her prove that it’s always been that way. But pictures, of course, don’t tell a woman’s entire story. During her time on The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills, viewers learned about Hadid’s health struggles with Lyme disease, and she has continued to document her journey on social media.
And her latest Instagram post is one of her most personal and revealing yet. On the heels of her birthday (January 11) Hadid reveals that, at 55, she’s now removed the breast implants, fillers, Botox, and extensions she felt pressured to get to keep up appearances. Or as she puts it, the things she “thought I needed in order to keep up with what society conditioned me to believe what a sexy woman should look like.” She goes on to stress the importance of health and making educated decisions about what you choose to do to and with your body, which is pretty sage advice in general.
“It took me many years of undoing some bad choices I made for myself before I finally found the freedom to sustainable internal beauty and acceptance of what is the best version of myself by no standards but my own,” she said. “It’s on us to learn to love our selves and celebrate our unique, one of a kind beauty at all ages as we move through this journey called ‘life.’ Beauty has no meaning without your health.”
Hadid has spoken about her decisions to get stop getting injectables before, and she famously had her breast implants removed on an episode of Real Housewives back in 2016. Back then, she said she’d found out that she had silicone from the implants floating in her body. “Your health is your wealth so please make educated decisions, research the partial information you’re given by our broken system before putting anything foreign in your body,” she continued.
Keep doing you, Yolanda. Here’s to a healthy and happy new year ahead.